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M A R /A PR 2 024 I S S U E 1 4
PUBLISHER DESIGNER EDITOR
Hara Allison
At Beneath Your Beautiful, we are committed to spreading positivity and hope and improving lives through raw and compassionate storytelling. If you, or someone you know, has a story to share, please reach out to hara@BeneathYourBeautiful.org
COPY EDITOR
Elin Adcock
DESIGNER
Sonya Fernandes
FRONT COVER A R T I S T Florence Lee
instagram.com/florenceleeandco instagram.com/smallvoiceco www.florenceleeandco.com BACK COVER
BeneathYourBeautiful.org All rights reserved. Contents of Beneath Your Beautiful, including articles and artwork/photography may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the express consent of Beneath Your Beautiful.
MODELS
Cassandra K Carpenter
instagram.com/casskayecars
Taylor Buchmann
instagram.com/_tay_i_guess P H O T O G R A P H E R Hara Allison
instagram.com/hara_allison_photography
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self por trait
Florence Lee is a Bristol based figurative and portrait artist. Flo is influenced by modern day expressionist
raw or underdeveloped. She mainly works in
figurative artists who focus on the visibility
acrylic and charcoal and likes to explore their
of brushstrokes within a painting. Her
properties. She is a prolific creator, drawing
fascination for the visible inner engineering
or painting almost every day. While finding it
and process of a painting came from seeing
meditative, she also feels it is necessary for her
more traditional artwork at a young age. The
to reach her skill level goals.
pursuance of making every mark count, some
Flo aims to create art that is approachable,
paintings with more details than others, is
unpretentious and interesting. She herself
what Flo is aiming for.
admires art for its aesthetic and technical
Interested in the ability our minds have
values, and appreciates art that has a message
to complete unfinished lines and areas of
or statement to convey, but it is by no means
paintings, Flo often intentionally leaves areas
a compulsory quality for her enjoyment. She
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studied for her foundation Fine Art Degree in
She continues to master her craft, and in
Bristol and finished her studies by achieving a
her future practice, hopes to reach more
Fine Art diploma. Since becoming a full-time
people: those who enjoy art both on face
artist, she has held exhibitions, been featured
value and those who choose to seek a deeper
in magazines, designed an album cover,
meaning. After 15 years since completing
created an art workshop, and had her work
her studies, she returned to art and strives
published in an art book.
to inspire others to relentlessly pursue their
Following these achievements, Flo was commissioned to create pieces for a London
passion as she has hers. Her original artworks, commissions, and
theater and created an online creative
prints, have been collected internationally,
community called “Small Voice.”
and she plans to exhibit more in the future. ▮
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A r t i s t Florence Lee
instagram.com/florenceleeandco instagram.com/smallvoiceco www.florenceleeandco.com
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T H E ST O RYT ELLER
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My journey as a photographer started three years ago in my building basement with my neighbor as model. I have since continued my quest for purpose and excellence. Photography is my way to express the creativity that sommeils deep inside of me. I have explored, studied other photographers, tried to learn from my peers, but most and foremost I have let my imagination and desire to create take over. I do not know how far I will go yet, but I am sure that one day I will get there. This is what drives me. For this photo series, I wanted to create an imaginary world, something that combines dream, confusion, and wonder. Of course this journey would not have been possible without the help of two amazing people who share my vision: model Alexias and makeup artist Hector Garcia P H O T O G R A P H E R Philippe Lesuisse
instagram.com/imagine_by_philippelesuisse gendarme0261.wixsite.com/imagine M O D E L Athasephomis
instagram.com/athasephomis M A K E U P A R T I S T Hector Garcia
instagram.com/the.glam.guy facebook.com/TheGlamGuy theglamguy.com
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“Creativity is the language we use to communicate the urgency of our dreams for a better future.” AUDRE LORDE
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Fenton Reese Fenton Reese, known as Captured Freedom, is a former Combat Correspondent (United States Marine Corps Photojournalist) who spent his term traveling the world capturing unseen moments, unknown faces, and telling untold stories. After completing his military service, he broke away from photography to pursue youth work and music. In recent years, his passion for photography reemerged. He is now focused on creating art in multimedia formats and capturing the beauty and freedom that is often forgotten in a chaotic world. P H O T O G R A P H E R Captured Freedom
instagram.com/capturedfreedom instagram.com/jazzmazing www.cfshots.co M O D E L Jasmine Baldwin
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In My Sober Solitude by Bailey D. Bowerman, Esq.
When I drank my classic Tito’s with soda water, a splash of white grapefruit juice, and lime at Cricket’s on November 3, 2021, I had no idea it would be my last one. If you ask me for the official reason I stopped
networking events without this support. At
drinking, I’ll tell you that I did so on the
first, this change felt like a huge sacrifice and
recommendation of my naturopath to support
a social handicap.
my efforts to heal my gut and hormones. I
When faced with leaving booze in the
was (and still am) battling major gut and
rearview, I KNEW I would become a social
hormone imbalances. When she made it
pariah, lose all of my friends, and fall into
clear that my all-too-regular greyhounds
insignificance along with skinny jeans and
were impeding the healing process, I knew
skinny brows.
it was time for a change.
I muddled through my first sober holidays
The not-so-official truth is that I wasn’t
by pure grit and ached every time I turned
living the life I wanted with alcohol. I can’t
down a drink or toasted with water. I was
say I was an alcoholic, but I also can’t say I
sheepish, assuring folks it was only due to
had a healthy relationship with alcohol.
health issues. I’m pretty sure I even planned
I think this gray area is a tough one and
a pink greyhound themed party for when I
one that more folks than we assume find
could drink again.
themselves in. I fell into the category of social
I didn’t even question why I felt the need
drinker but it wasn’t a habit that supported
to apologize for my choice not to imbibe. I
my goals, honored my body, or allowed for
slipped easily into a posture characterized
true self awareness.
by shame and deprecation. On a visit to Las
While my waning health and desire to
Vegas, I was unsurprised by the judgemental
conceive had greatly curtailed my drinking
looks and half expected the hot tea I ordered
in the months leading up to my last
at each meal and cocktail hour to come
greyhound, I still viewed alcohol as a given,
with instructions for penance to the gods of
a necessity, and a luxury all in one. I couldn’t
relevance and sophistication.
imagine navigating holidays, parties, or
I wish I could say that none of my fears
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materialized, that they were unfounded
things. I started to take stock of my life over
because all of my friends saw positive changes
the past two years, and I realized that my
in me and loved me unconditionally, that I
life had improved astronomically. I might
learned quickly to have the same kind of fun
not be normal, but the Bailey I know now
without booze, that my social life didn’t skip a
is better. The time alone, unclouded by any
beat, and I spent many nights dancing, fueled
mind-altering substance, allowed me to get to
by only water and good vibes until 2am.
know myself, sit with uncomfortable truths,
Unfortunately, a lot of my fears did
make changes, and form my own opinions.
materialize. I found myself invited to less and less
I realized that I don’t actually want the life I thought I wanted.
outings, as I realized I related to less and less
As I write this, more than two years into
of the people in my inner circle. I found myself
the process, I am more surprised than anyone
being left out of more and more plans and
when I say that I don’t miss drinking most
drifting away from friends I thought would
of the time. Sometimes I miss the taste and
be lifelong companions. Perhaps the most
the cozy confidence, but that small ache is
painful realization was that I didn’t get the
outweighed by the stuff I do not miss. I do
same pleasure from wild nights out as I once
not miss the blackouts, the anxiety, the
had. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy dressing up,
hangovers (that I said I didn’t get, but I know
gabbing, dancing, and meeting new people,
now that I was just that out of touch with
but I noticed the chaos of drunken nights
my body), the friends I only related to when
more acutely. I became more aware that conversations stayed in the shallow end of the pool after more than 2 drinks. Things changed quite a bit, and I found myself alone a lot more. My life will never be the same, and I took
intoxicated, and the constant drama I invited into my life. I don’t miss the gut pain during and after each drink, and I don’t miss feeling inflamed constantly. Here is just a smattering of the specific
time to mourn that. I mourned the previous
changes I’ve noticed:
version of myself, my old identity, the
•
relationships I lost, the activities I missed,
and boozy brunches, but I get plenty
and the lifestyle I thought I’d maintain. I
of invites to tea dates, spa days, and
allowed myself to feel disappointed in myself for changing and in my friends for not being on the same page. Then, I found space for gratitude and was able to fully welcome this new life and new version of myself.
yoga classes. •
I did lose some friends, but I gained more authentic connections.
•
I experience far less anxiety, and that’s not only because I wake up
It took almost a year for me to stop missing
every morning knowing exactly what
my greyhounds after a rough day, cocktails on
happened the night before. I’m not
the boat, and spiked coffees on the weekends.
forcing my body to constantly detox, so
I spent a long time wishing I could be normal,
I feel calmer and less anxious overall.
reliving and recounting stories about wild nights out, and lamenting my inability to
I get fewer invites to wild nights out
•
I feel much more connected to my body
order craft cocktails on vacation, but I slowly
and its cues for hunger and rest, because
realized how much I gained by giving up
I stopped numbing my emotions and my
booze. It wasn’t until I was fully adjusted to
body’s cues. I may have lost the luxury
this new lifestyle that I began to question
of alcohol as a social lubricant, but I also
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•
quieted the noise drowning out the oft
and regular blackouts. As I admitted above, I
quiet voice of my greatest ally. Now, I can
can’t say I was an alcoholic, but I also can’t say
hear when my body speaks to me, and I
I had a healthy relationship with alcohol. The
can meet its needs rather than reaching
bottom line is that I think our decisions about
for a greyhound to make me feel
alcohol, food intake, and movement are all
artificially confident, warm, and fuzzy.
inherently personal, and each person should
My confidence increased as I learned to
pay attention to how their body functions
navigate social settings sober. Because I was forced to be fully present in all situations, from parties and awkward family gatherings to runway shows and networking events, I showed myself that I could handle a lot more than I thought I could. •
I started liking myself because I gave myself space to feel instead of masking emotion with a buzz, and I started doing what I said I’d do, and I started thinking for myself.
The unfortunate side effect of these benefits is that I simply do not function the same way
best and what decisions fit with their lifestyle and goals. For example, people often ask me if I’m bothered by my husband Blake drinking. I think I surprise them when I say that I am not at all bothered by the beer he cracks open each night. I believe that Blake possesses beautiful wisdom and doesn’t need me micromanaging his drinking or any part of his life. I should begin by noting that Blake is a grown, independent man. I have no more control over him and his habits than I do over the US economy. I’m his wife, his partner, his support, and his equal, but I am not his mother. I have no desire to control
I once did. I don’t have the same motivations,
or manipulate him as if he were a dog or a
and I crave a level of connection and
child (and honestly, we shouldn’t be treating
conversation that my old haunts and habits
children that way either).
can’t provide. I can’t really blame my friends
Blake and his healthy relationship with both
for distancing themselves or choosing not to
food and alcohol lie in stark contrast to my
include me in their wild plans. I no longer
formerly dubious relationship with both. He
make much sense in that world. Thus, I existed
approaches booze with balance, listens to his
in my sober solitude.
body, and indulges responsibly. This is a wild
Before we get too far, let’s pause to address
concept for someone like me, but he is able to
the question on everyone’s minds. Am I trying
drink regularly and almost never to excess.
to get you all to give up your nightcap, your
Just as I’ve been so careful never to impose
celebratory bubbles, and your boat beverages?
my dietary restrictions (once self-imposed,
The short answer is ABSOLUTELY NOT.
now medically-imposed) on Blake, I refuse
I don’t think drinking is inherently wrong,
to impose my choice about alcohol on him.
and I can’t say I’ll never drink again. It
I’d hate to get in the way of his connection
merely does not serve me currently, and I
with his body’s cues, his neutral relationship
don’t foresee a net gain from adding it back in
with indulgences (whether that be Coor’s
right now. I am a proud survivor of a multiple
Light or Reese’s), or his ability to enjoy
decade long battle with disordered eating,
pleasure in moderation.
and I can’t overlook the obvious connection
For all of these reasons, and so many
between my restrictive relationship with food
more, I gladly keep multiple refrigerators
and both my frenetic relationship with alcohol
stocked with beer and our snack cabinet full
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of his favorite sweets. Life is about balance and moderation and diversity of thought and habit and preference. As I learn to be a better partner, a more conscious community member, and a more fully realized person, I
I think I surprise them when I say that I am not at all bothered by the beer he cracks open each night.
have leaned into the idea that what is best for me isn’t necessarily what is best for Blake or anyone else, and I can live with that duality. With all of that being said, I began to question the place of honor that we have given to alcohol. Almost every social event revolves around drinking. We are inundated from a young age with messages and images showing us that drinking is sophisticated and worldly and edgy and sexy and fun. We demonize sugar and carbs, and we carefully source our food, but we never question making room for a cocktail or a glass of wine. College is basically four years of drinking punctuated by sober moments in class. We all love to point to the prohibition era as evidence that not drinking is not an option, and those who choose to abstain are labeled as religious freaks, squares, or damaged goods. It makes people uncomfortable when you choose not to drink, even if you are happy to sip water or tea and go with the flow. I wonder, why is the default drinking? Why do the sober and the sober curious feel so isolated? Why are all of the fun activities, celebrations, and banner moments so closely linked with drinking? Why is the decision not to drink such a controversial one? These are the rebellious questions I was asking when I learned that I am not alone.
taking off in major cities and felt that excited Christmas morning feeling. When I scrolled through the quintessential blurry, glamorous pictures, I learned that entire groups of people were choosing to go out and NOT drink. I love my new-found presence and my commitment to mental and physical wellness, but I do miss the bubbly, sparkly nights out. I miss getting ready and heading out, wondering who I’ll run into. I miss dancing my face off with friends and scanning menus of carefully curated drinks. I miss holding a beautifully crafted cocktail in a heavy glass and enjoying that first sip. I miss the blurry pictures and the lights. It turns out that it’s possible to have all of this without the booze, hangovers, and regret. We just need to create space for it. We just need to shift the way we think about fun and alcohol. Instead of asking why is this freak not drinking? we would be asking why am I drinking today? or do I want to drink today? From these thoughts, Diversion Events was born. While I saw alcohol-free events succeed in larger cities, my own city had nothing like this. I was lamenting this very thing when my dear friend Christine Burns-Harrison suggested we fix it ourselves. We did just that. We welcome all. Whether you’re sober,
There are growing numbers who limit or
sober-curious, sober for today, or simply
completely cut out booze. The sober curious
an outside-the-box thinker looking for
movement encourages us to pause and ask
community and festivity sans booze, WE
why we’re drinking before we do so. In
GOT YOU.
fact, generation Z drinks less than older
The words dry event may conjure up
generations and is the fastest growing
horrifying pictures of church basements,
demographic consuming non-alcoholic drinks.
multi-purpose rooms, and cramped family
Something inside me lept when I learned
rooms with bad coffee, and stale donuts–all
of alcohol-free night life. I saw that it was
soaked in the awkward energy of reluctant
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sobriety. In today’s culture, it seems your
regret and anxiety and stomach ache the
choices are THAT or the classic bar or club
next morning. I found the sparkly, bubbly
scene that is sexier, shinier, and lubricated by
anticipation I missed so much. I danced my
booze. We provide a third option.
face off, and I learned that I’m about as bad
Diversion Events are intentionally dry
at dancing sober as I am at dancing drunk. I
and effortlessly edgy. We do not seek to
had the edgy club experience, and my body
replicate conventional social scenes but to
didn’t pay the price. I made connections and
fill a gap with something completely new. We
found a community.
provide an alternative (a diversion, if you
I hope this changes our weekends. I hope
will) to the bars, clubs, and boozy brunches
that folks who have chosen not to drink wear
by curating a high-end atmosphere, complete
that choice with pride rather than shame or
with high vibes, quality beverages, and
timidity. I hope that we shift our collective
enthralling entertainment.
perspective on alcohol. I’m not calling for
We rebel against and divert from the
prohibition or a clan of teetotallers, but I’d
norm, creating something new. Imagine
love to see more spaces where drinking is not
a night out or a Sunday brunch where vibes
the default decision, where there are multiple
are high, your body is honored, and your
beautiful alcohol-free choices, where drinking
buzz is achieved through atmosphere and
is merely one of many options, and the goal
authentic connections.
is connection, recreation, and enhancing life,
Our aim is to provide a space where folks who choose not to drink, whether it be for one night or one month or a whole lifetime, aren’t
rather than dulling our senses and escaping life for the night. I also hope that no one else will ever spend
outsiders anymore. The mocktails aren’t a tiny
their sober journey feeling ostracized and
afterthought on the back corner of the menu;
alone. If I have anything to say about it, life
they are the main event. Dancing is fueled by
with no alcohol or less alcohol will no longer
excitement, camaraderie, and true confidence.
mean a life without fun, friends, or indulgence.
Conversations go deep, connections are made,
The last two years of my life were
and it’s all remembered the next morning.
characterized by sober solitude, but I see a
After our first event in January of 2024, I
lot more revelry and authentic connections
felt like I had come home. I felt like I finally
in my future. I’m committed to changing the
recovered the piece of my life that was missing
narrative surrounding sober living, and I
for two years. I found all of the revelry of a
cannot wait to remember every detail. ▮
night out that I had missed and avoided the
xoxo
Bailey Bowerman is a selfproclaimed recovering attorney and late bloomer. She loves words, rest, and hyping entrepreneurs and creatives. She lives in Northern Idaho with her husband and is decidedly and unapologetically NOT outdoorsy.
facebook.com/bailey.standish instagram.com/diversion_events
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Bailey
P H O T O G R A P H E R Danny Cordero
instagram.com/dannycorderophotos
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Rosso E merald C rimson
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I am all of the women I paint. I am the young girl who questions the future, and the one who bricks hers in daydreams. I’m the woman who looks vulnerable, and the one that feels invincible. I’m that kid who is tender, and the lady who is slender. I’m the mother who gives birth, and the one who pleases men. I’m the beauty Queen, I’m the woman who broke free. I’m the woman who spreads her wings wide, and the ones who shelter by her side. I’m the fighter, I’m the lover, I’m the loser, I’m the scorer. I am all of the women I painted, and if one day I paint men, I will also be them.
A R T I S T Rosso Emerald Crimson
instagram.com/rossoartist
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In her portraiture, Rosso Emerald Crimson renders female subjects who emerge through a haze of pastels and muted tones. She infuses the dreamy oil paintings with responses to current affairs and questions about the future, which often serve as a catalyst for her projects. The artist depicts the women and girls staring forward with unsmiling expressions. Psychologically charged, her characters capture the viewers’ imagination and instill very subjective, intimate responses. Technically, while Rosso approaches painting from a classical perspective, in her final rendering she twists her creations to achieve a feeling of contemporaneity. Often, the beautifully rendered portraits and figures seem to emerge from the remnants of intricate surfaces, as if embodying the cycle of rebirth from decadence. The artist compares her creative process to the Hegelian dialetic: somehow chaotic and contradictory in the making yet geared towards the achievement of a higher sense of harmony. Italian born, Rosso has been living in London since early 2000. She trained at the London Atelier of Representational Art (LARA) and now works a full time artist. She has won several art prizes, including the 2016 “Emerald Winter Pride Award”, organised by Pride UK; the first prize for the Holly Bush “Emerging Woman Painter Prize”, leading to Rosso’s first solo exhibition at CASSart headquarters gallery in London. In 2019, Rosso was awarded the first prize for the portrait/figurative category at the “Jackson Open Painting Prize”. She was selected to participate in “Sky Portrait Artist Of The Year” in 2019 and again in 2021. In 2021, she was finalist in the renown “Beautiful Bizarre Art Prize”, which opened doors to collaborations and exhibitions internationally with galleries in US (Sugarlift, Principle Gallery), Canada (James Baerd Gallery), Norway (Romfjord Gallery), Germany (Stoerpunkt). Rosso has been featured in Colossal, International Artist Magazine, Create Mag, Evolved Mag, MyModernMet, Artists&Illustrator; The Artist’s Magazine, etc. Her painting “Climate Rebel” (2019) was on cover of Arena Magazine (Australia); her work was sold to renown art collectors wordlwide and exhibited at the Royal Institute of Oil Painters (ROI) at the Mall Galleries in London and MEAM (Museum Modern Art) in Barcelona.
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Emerging grace M O D E L Sianna
instagram.com/sianna.spearz P H O T O G R A P H E R Robert Evans
instagram.com/el_evansphotography
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present m o ment by Devonté Pearson
Devonté Pearson, aka T.S The Solution, is an introspective Hip-Hop storyteller weaving lyrical tales that resonate with authenticity and personal depth. Originally from Long Beach, California, and raised in Kent, Washington, T.S found his creative home in the 509 (Spokane, WA). Notable for his project “Purple In Spokane,” T.S has garnered attention in publications like The Spokesman Review, performed on KSPS PBS, and secured awards from regional entities like Artist Trust and Spokane Arts. Beyond his musical endeavors, he’s opened a renowned recording studio, earned accolades for leadership from local non-profit Spokane Arts, and captivated audiences at surrounding colleges and mainstream events. T.S The Solution embodies a dynamic force in the Spokane arts scene, creating a vibrant narrative through his impactful storytelling & his leadership. The rapper now aims to spread his message and impact throughout the nation.
My name is Devonté Pearson. I am a father of twins, a husband to an entrepreneurial wife, a Hip-Hop artist (T.S The Solution), an Audio Engineer at my own recording facility, and a leader in my community of Spokane, Washington. I recently discovered how all of these titles have affected my abilities whether positively or negatively. With the pressure starting to show in my actions and on my face I decided to embark on a journey to heal. I needed to increase my awareness of what was happening internally.
instagram.com/ts_the_solution_
these lyrics. I can cry when I record these words. I can add effects
Music has always been my form of expression. I tend to write effortlessly during times of uncertainty, hostility, and fear. Not too long ago I started to ask the question of the century:
why? Why do I seem to thrive as a writer during such times? Do I need to be in survivor mode to write my best songs? That was another sign I needed to be aware of in order to make a change. I started just writing for the hell of it. I wasn’t worried about it being the best song anybody has ever heard. I just wanted to get what was on my heart out and on paper. I can yell when I record to my vocals to emphasize the emotions I felt writing. Every part of production plays a role in my healing and expression. I still needed more answers.
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I was never a big reader growing up. When
mid 2023. Hannah later came to a concert of
the question “why” got louder in my head I
mine and told me if I needed to use her space
started reading to find the answer. Books to
for some time of event that I was welcomed
me are brains. We get to read the brain of
with open arms. I didn’t know what I would do
some of the greatest minds in the world. I read
there at the time, but once I began this journey
a book by Eckhart Tolle titled “The Power Of
of healing she quickly popped into my mind as
Now.” It helped fill in some blanks for me. I
a guide. She can help me navigate the spiritual
now know where a lot of the pressure I felt has
side of this journey. We meditated, we focused
been coming from. My inability to be present
on affirmations, and we spoke during friendly
has caused me to live in an illusion. I used to
conversations about life. The books helped
pray for better days without being grateful
with the science while Hannah helped with
for the second I currently have at the moment.
the spiritual and physical motions. Life was
Another part of me was healed by the end of
showing me all the different ways to heal,
that book. My consciousness stood front and
but even further life was showing me the
center. I never felt this before. The past was
particular ways I needed to heal.
no longer affecting my present. The future
Music, books, and mindfulness techniques
no longer scared me. It also did not excite me
have played an integral role in my healing
either. All I truly have is now. I am not my past.
process. Each pathway helped me deal with
I am not my future. After that, I started reading
the different aspects of life. All of this has
more on epigenetics and trauma passed down
helped me be a better version of myself no
through the generations. Knowledge became
matter my role or title. I’ve added morning
another part of my healing journey.
gratitude time to the daily routine as well.
I can read and write by myself all day, but
Although I have come what feels like a long
there is no need to do this alone. Through
way, I know I’ve got a ways to go. I know there
alignment I stumbled upon Anam Cara
will be ups and downs. I know there will
Healing Center in Downtown Spokane.
be days that feel like I’ve taken a step back.
Hannah Talbot, the founder, had a mediation
Though I know those times are to come, my
class that my wife and I had attended back in
focus is on the present moment. ▮
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M O D E L Devonté Pearson aka T.S The Solution
instagram.com/ts_the_solution_ P H O T O G R A P H E R Hara Allison
instagram.com/hara.photography
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OFF THE CANVAS
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I’m that guy who, at a not-so-tender age, had a ’huh’ moment in the most unremarkable of places – an office cubicle. Tap-tap-tap – the sound of my daily routine. It was a Tuesday or Wednesday, I thought, “Why not just paint?” Not in some grand pursuit to be the next Bruegel, just... for the heck of it.
undulating globe of endless possibilities. Earth is a globe, and there I am, embracing this truth at 32. But in my defense, even Kandinsky, the art maestro, seemed to catch on to this truth after hitting 30 and finally picked up the brush. So, I guess I’m in pretty good company, aren’t I?
I wish I could say that was a transformative moment, with fanfares heralding my newfound, euphoric artist’s journey. But no, I’m still that desk jockey, only now sometimes there’s a brush in my hand. No grand visions, just me dabbling.
Iana Levman
And you know what I discovered? The world isn’t a straight, neatly-ordered staircase; it’s a vast,
P H O T O G R A P H E R Oksana Kladkevich
50 | Beneath Your Beautiful
M O D E L Iana Levman
instagram.com/ianakrugl instagram.com/kladkevich.universe
Beneath Your Beautiful | 51
Head Down Eyes Forward by Nicole Lynn
Mourning
I rang the doorbell, hearing Trinity’s
It is 6am; I’m standing on my best friend’s
bark announcing my arrival to the entire
porch with a suitcase, puffy eyes and my
neighborhood. A 100-pound, all black German
cheeks streaked with the remnants of my
Shepherd, Trinity couldn’t help the rich
mascara. I had pulled into her driveway just
baritone in her bark.
as the sun was breaking through the clouds.
I hear footsteps. I take a calming breath
It was close to the time she usually woke, but
and force a smile. Nicole isn’t one for hugging,
a continuation of my night. It has always been
she’s not the “there, there” kind of girl, but
this way. If I were to send her a text at this
that’s what I love about her. I gather my
time of the morning, she would reply,
courage, seconds ticking by as I stand there on
“Why haven’t you slept yet?”
that familiar porch, the same one I have come
A best friend knows you like a book. A good friend, anyway. It took all I had to walk that long, long walk
to for 27 years. I need her undeniable strength. As the door opened, my chin automatically raised an inch higher, my practiced smile a
to her door and not appear like the lovesick
little brighter. After a good sniffing and the
fool I felt inside. But coming here was better
following licking of my face, Trinity moved
than the other thoughts I had earlier. The
aside, bringing Nicole into view. Looking at
thoughts that have plagued and followed me
her face, I lost every bit of the composure I’d
for years. The S word, too dramatic to speak
fought so hard for on the way to the door. I
about in public. Fear of ridicule, being looked
crumbled, my hand flying to my mouth to
at as the crazy one. Oh, what trauma does to
cover my outburst. I was far past any dignity
a child….
or grace. All she said was, “Come in. Lock the
52 | Beneath Your Beautiful
Beneath Your Beautiful | 53
door behind you.” I instantly felt relief at her
months, trying to heal. We talked, we cried,
simple, direct commands.
we ate pizza, and we ate a lot of ice cream.
Nicole; her name was the same as mine.
She let me get it all out, the good, the bad,
Ironically, I met her the week I got married.
and definitely the ugly, riding with me on
She was to be my fill-in for a photography gig
the roller coaster of emotions. I had always
scheduled on the week of my honeymoon.
admired how she kept her emotions in check
We were both photographers at a place
– always calm and steady – spiders aside, of
specializing in that fabulously famous cheesy
course. We took turns crying. Usually, the
Will Ferrell-type family photo. We loved
one who wasn’t went and got the ice cream
photography, but hated those sessions - “Look
that night.
here, mom and dad,” while holding a fuzzy
Nicole had lost her father recently and
pickle, praying the squirming two-year-old
was moving through her own grief. To see
would stop crying and bless us with a smile.
your friend, who rarely sheds a tear, mourn
Nicole and I have been friends since TLC
her loving father and friend - well, it does
was telling us about chasing waterfalls, and
something to you. But to move through grief
she told me about a show premiering called
together bonds you forever, like sisters.
“Friends.” Little did we know it was the start of a new era for us: an era is defined as a significant period of time. Contrary to the theatrics I was currently displaying, I’m honestly not one for drama either. I despise all the boo-hooing and tears. The problem was, I wasn’t powerful enough to stop them. They were automatic and embarrassing. I realize there’s nothing inherently wrong with tears. It’s okay to cry, but maybe not in line at Walmart, or at the red light where everyone can see me. Also, sometimes the tears didn’t match the good amount of strength I had for my own self, but I’ll get to that in a bit. I had just separated from the man I had met at 15, when I still had braces on my teeth. I didn’t know how to… be? I was lost. He played football and was big and strong. Something I saw as safety at the time. Together, we made two of the most beautiful children I could have ever hoped for. On the inside, where it counts. I did work off and on, but for the most part, I was a stay-at-home mother. I wanted to be the one who raised them, not a babysitter and a TV. But our marriage had slowly withered and died. I stayed with Nicole for the next several
54 | Beneath Your Beautiful
Malformations
I had been fainting on and off since I was in high school and lived with a constant headache. I kind of thought it was normal for everyone to feel this way. Throughout the years, I had been to the ER several times seeking a diagnosis. At one point I thought I had found my answers: three herniations in my back. Yay, hallelujah! I went to physical therapy, started working out, easy-peezy. I finally reached the point where my back was good, but my workouts had become an obsession. I found the freedom of running, and I never wanted to let it go. I felt different on the treadmill. Like I was finally breathing for the first time. This was also around the time Dr. Phil taught us about what a payoff is. Nicole and I shared the exercise addiction for years. We had babies together, we gained and lost weight together. And boy, oh boy, did we work out together. Billy Blanks nearly killed us! Or maybe it was the 3 to 4 hours working out we did AFTER his punishing workouts. I don’t know. Nicole lifted weights, while I went down the cardio route. We would call each other daily swearing we had just come up with the newest way to use the total
gym to target some tiny, buried muscle as if
good. Nothing exploded in your head. No mass.
we had split the atom. It was kind of insane.
Here’s a lorazepam for your obvious panic. See
But hey, it was free, legal, not fattening, and
you later.” Eight hours waiting to be seen, only
nobody was stopping us!
to get a “diagnose and adios.” Only, without
A few years into this beautiful torture, the
the diagnose part.
pain in my neck became so bad I couldn’t hold
It wasn’t until a week had gone by that I
my head up. That next MRI showed I now had
looked at my discharge papers and saw the
four herniations in my neck. I couldn’t find a
actual results from the CT scan. The notes
payoff to justify seven spinal herniations, so
read, “Chiari malformation with a 9mm
I tried to slow down a bit to let my body heal.
brain herniation.” I huffed, thinking “What
This meant only five miles a day and no weight
in the world is that?” but refused to look it
lifting. Nicole had beautiful, strong “Rachel”
up. As if magically, this would go away if
arms, so it was hard for me to keep from
I continued to ignore it. If the doctor said I
comparing. I missed lifting, but I also had to
was fine, then I was fine. Only, I wasn’t fine. I
be a mom and a wife.
needed to find out why I kept fainting, and why
Two weeks later I suffered another fainting
I was so sick all of the time. Every time I bent
spell – this time with a smack to the head
over, I got dizzy. A migraine was my constant
from the windowsill I hit on the way down.
companion. It just became a part of life to move
Off to the ER once again. At this point, I felt as
through pain.
though I should have my own wing, or at least a cape to make things fun. The results: “You’re
When I finally attempted an internet search, I read the first paragraph with a frown. By
Beneath Your Beautiful | 55
the second paragraph I was throwing up.
kind of self sabotage - I breathe it in, always
Not unusual for me, but this time it was
living in guilt. Hearing what Michelle was
from reading that my brain was falling out.
dealing with literally took my will to live.
Did I read that right? My brain is pushing
I already struggled with depression, low
through the skull and onto my spine? I mean,
self-esteem, and trauma. Michelle was the
how could this be a real thing? But it made
sweetest, kindest person in North America,
sense. Each paragraph I read described every
so why this? Why was this happening to her
symptom, every nuance of my pain for as long
when I was the one on that ugly fence of not
as I could remember: the headaches, the neck
wanting to be here anymore? I couldn’t make
pain, the back pain that ruled my life, the
sense of it.
brain fog – all of the odd and random aches
My birthday came, and with it a flareup. I
and pains finally explained. I had always felt
was really uncomfortable and couldn’t move,
like I was on a 10 second delay, and it turns
so my birthday plans turned into a small
out, I was! My cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) flow
celebration with the animals and Nicole .
was compromised getting to my brain. I was
We had a nice little dinner, were watching a
speechless. I found out my jugular was also
movie, and I was completely at ease and happy
compressed, and I had something called Eagles
for the first time in a very long time.
Syndrome, the malformation of a tiny bone
Then the levee broke. Nicole got a call about
that projects from your skull just under your
Michelle, and I heard muffled screaming.
ear. Face, jaw, and throat pain, all explained
She was already putting on her shoes when
for the first time in my life!
I came around the corner asking, “Michelle,
Michelle
Genetically, she’s Nicole’s sister, but ain’t no way Michelle isn’t mine too! We don’t share DNA, but we share some of the same heartache, the kind that brings you to your knees. The kind where only the real tough survive. Sometimes all you have to do is look into another woman’s eyes to feel the pain that matches yours. Around three years ago, Michelle also started to exhibit some weird symptoms: faints and falls, unexplained pain, and agony, respectively. Neurological, and unrelenting. Knowing that Nicole was carrying the burden of her sister’s illness, I held onto my secret. In truth, I couldn’t face reality on my own, and didn’t want to burden her with it, especially after Nicole hit me with the jaw-dropping news, “Michelle has ALS.” I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. I fell face-first into guilt thinking, “My diagnosis is big, but it isn’t going to take my life.” I was a master at this
56 | Beneath Your Beautiful
what’s wrong? Are you okay?” We were soon racing to Michelle’s house. I’m not sure how I got to the car. It was all a blur. Nicole ran in, but I stayed in the car, unable to move. Not a minute later Nicole runs out, screaming in the street, “Please, someone please! Please come help my sister!” She screamed and even clapped her hands, desperate for anyone to help her. Her devastation, in its purest form, moved me from the car despite my pain. We found Michele face down in her hallway. She had been there for hours. I can’t explain how helpless I felt knowing I was too weak to help. All I could do was sit, and pray my biggest prayer. It’s been three years since that night. I’ve since had Chiari decompression surgery, where they took a piece of my skull out to make room for my brain tonsils. I have 14 metal plates and 21 screws from the base of my skull brain down to L5 S1. Michelle is bedbound for life, frozen, motionless except for her left thumb and a little eye movement. I’m humbled
daily by her will and strength. Just being near
you, until you’re not afraid anymore, you can’t
her has taught me how to be soft, but strong.
move forward. I was so tired of being afraid,
She taught me how to be brave, yet letting my
and I drew strength from not ever wanting
fears show. She taught me I can be determined,
to be that sad and desperate again. I finally
yet let my tears flow.
reached the point where my validation didn’t
My first morning after spending the night on the ridge, as we call it, I confessed to Nicole
hang on other people’s thoughts and my smiles weren’t forced.
the ugly thoughts were back. She said it was
I may not be able to run like I used to, but I
selfish. I wasn’t offended because she didn’t
believe that ability was taken away so I would
know what it was to feel like as if you were
finally stop and realize what is important. I
putting everyone around you through a
still struggle, but we all do, and my foundation
nightmare. But I did.
is strong. My power is in finding a way to
Today, I shake my head as I type this. I
stand back up. I can sit and cry and get it all
feel as if all this was a lifetime ago. Another
out, but I have a plan on how I’m going to get
life. Michelle has shown me what it means
back up. In 11th grade english class, I wrote
to appreciate life. I’ve gone through RIM
something inspirational in the last line of an
(Regenerating Images in Memory) therapy,
assignment – something I had never felt, but
and have been the recipient of a whole lot of
hoped at some point could be true: “And in the
love from Michelle and Nicole. I feel as though
end, she was happy.”
I have already healed through discipline, so
I found my true self, and learned that
all I have to do is welcome in this newfound
trauma was something that happened but
love for myself. It’s true what they say, healing
doesn’t define me. I am whole. I am at peace.
has to come from within. Until you can stand
And I am happy. ▮
on your own, stand in the shadows that scare
chiaribridges.org
Beneath Your Beautiful | 57
58 | Beneath Your Beautiful
Timofei Rassokhin
Timofei Rassokhin is a photographer and psychologist. As a psychodramatist he loves visualizing and capturing vivid emotions of people. In his sessions with models and clients, he practices non-directive approach, letting them live in the moment. He feels his job is to give space and push the buttion in the right moment! F E M A L E M O D E L Elina Polukhina
instagram.com/elina_poluhina
P H O T O G R A P H E R Timofei Rassokhin
instagram.com/timofeirassokhin
M A K E U P A R T I S T Marina Karaseva
instagram.com/psy_karaseva
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Volodina is professional model and makeup artist with over ten years experience. She has been featured in hundreds of publications such as magazines, calendars and book covers. In her work, Volodina focuses on creativity, diversity, emotions and professionalism. Although dark aesthetic is the closest thing to her heart, she is a very open-minded person and can be seen in various, sometimes very surprising creations. M O D E L / M A K E U P A R T I S T Volodina
instagram.com/volodina.model facebook.com/model.volodina volodina.portfoliobox.net
P H O T O G R A P H E R Karolina Chrapkiewicz
instagram.com/karolinachrapkiewicz
60 | Beneath Your Beautiful
Melancholy
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Oksana
Kladkevich Hello. I’m Oksana. When someone asks me to tell something about myself, the first thing I always feel is an inner conflict: how can I describe myself in a few words? Photographer? Musician? Mother? Film Director? A character from a book? I have been waking up with this question for seven years. Seven years… that’s how long I’ve been doing photography. Coincidence? Perhaps I am looking to find answers about me in other people. I am stalker, creator, observer. My photography gives me the opportunity to tell stories about people, because every person’s life is like a book. Some have bright pages and many pictures inside, while others have empty pages with only one word: conscience, goodness, love, peace. There are some forgotten and beautiful works standing on far book shelf in the dust. Some of these books will never be opened. My photography is multifaceted in nature. It doesn’t contain retouch, only the real person as he is. Every new shooting is an improvisation and a new story. I mix different tools: prisms, music, light, liquid haze for atmosphere and besides that emotional mood, feelings and current life experience of my hero. I call myself a transformational photographer. The shooting process begins long before the start. First, I see pictures of a person in my head and prepare some sketches. At the time of shooting, I take out these ideas and begin to create, sculpt and look deep into the universe of my hero like a stargazer. It is so beautiful, but so difficult to describe. Those who were in this process with me understand everything without words. A person transforms before my eyes and this part I love the most. My photography is born in love. It’s look like a meditation: time, space and quantum particles are working with me. If you ask me: “Are you a photographer?” The answer will be: “Not exactly.” I’m much more. I don’t associate myself with this profession. I am not a photographer. I am a stalker and a creator. And I take pictures with my heart. M O D E L / P H O T O G R A P H E R Oksana Kladkevich
instagram.com/kladkevich.universe
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dirt
Dirt emerges from the exquisite fusion of two realms: the enchanting synergy between photography and music. Our model, a gifted singer-songwriter, was moved by the artistic impulse to visually encapsulate the essence of her lyrical composition. The narrative unfolds with poignant eloquence, portraying the tragic journey of a young woman attempting to liberate herself from the suffocating clutches of a toxic relationship. Each image delicately captures pivotal moments – the quest for an elusive escape, the sobering realization of entrapment, culminating in the evocative depiction of a soul inexorably succumbing to the depths of emotional submersion.
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WA R D R O B E S T Y L I S T/ M O D E L / M A K E U P A R T I S T
Martina Stella La Vista instagram.com/zkdixon
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P H O T O G R A P H E R Paolo Del Rocino
instagram.com/elindur facebook.com/paolodelrocinoph
I am a passionate and dedicated portrait, beauty and fashion photographer, driven by the art of capturing beauty and telling stories through my lens. With a background in photography and a keen eye for detail, I strive to create visually compelling and evocative images that resonate with viewers. I really love to connect with my subjects and go beyond the shooting itself to find human feelings and interactions. This is, I think, my main flavour as a photographer. Paolo Del Rocino
Beneath Your Beautiful | 71
next step TO THE
by Kristi Leavitt
There are so many things that we don’t see coming when we are younger. We think everything is within our control, when in reality, life is a river that carries us where it may. This is the river that led me to Senior Living.
Advertising was my primary career path, with a brief diversion into Supplemental Insurance. Every bit as exciting and stimulating as it sounds, this foray into insurance illuminated Kristi Leavitt has spent the majority of her career in advertising but has found a new road to travel and is now a sales leader at an independent living retirement community in Spokane, WA. She has lived in the Spokane and Coeur d’Alene area all her life. She and her husband Ken have blended family of seven adult children and one grandchild. When not at work helping seniors and their families find solutions, you can find Kristi playing with her pups while baking them treats and settling into life as a recent empty nester..
my desire to help people in their time of need. I eventually returned to the advertising field, finding had evolved into a younger person’s game, and I no longer had that on my side. It also didn’t leave me with a deep sense of purpose that my insurance work had. Then came COVID. The world seemed to shut down and my career path shut down with it. Between caring for my elderly mother, who was living with us, and a husband with his own health issues, I was terrified to work outside the home, risking bringing home what, at that point and time, was deemed a death sentence. We holed up, hunkered down and hid from the world, as many people did. We… okay, mostly the kids, used the time to remodel a house so that we could sell it and buy a house that was more suitable for my elderly mother. My mother. That’s where the real story begins. As my sister and I grew up, she was always available and in-tune. As adults she transformed into a loving, supportive friend and mentor and the kind of grandmother that Hallmark writes cards about. I have been lucky indeed. Even as adults, the loss of a parent is still heart-wrenching and leaves a hole that cannot
72 | Beneath Your Beautiful
be filled. The family dynamic shifts to the next generation who needs to step up and lead the family, ready or not. While I have yet to lose
“Your mom has had a stroke” she said, eyes full of sympathy. She squeezed my hand and took me in to see my mom. At the first sight of her, I almost crumbled. She looked so small in the hospital bed…
my mother to death, she, our relationship and our family transformed on February 2, 2014. Seahawks fans may remember this as day the Legion of Boom crushed the Denver Broncos with a score of 43 to 8 during Super Bowl XLVIII. Mom was supposed to come watch the game with us, but got a last minute invitation to view it with friends. When she called to let me know the change of plans, she
The next months was a blur. I alternated my lunch hours so I could address her needs. One day I’d go to the rehab facility to visit with her and pick up her laundry. The next day I would visit to her condo to take care of her cat, now referred to as “The Stroke Whisperer”. This routine was the norm until the day l I was informed that her time in rehab had run out and that they would be releasing her.
mentioned that her cat had been hissing at her
Wait. WHAT? She had barely progressed to
all morning. The cat knew what was coming.
the point that she could feed herself, much
The rest of us were clueless.
less bathe, dress, cook, clean or get herself to
Within 5 minutes of the games end, my
and from the restroom. I naively asked where
phone rang. I was surprised to hear a man’s
she was going, thinking there was a plan for
voice telling me that my mother was on her
a continuum of care. I received back a slight
way to the hospital. I thought it was a joke at
shrug and “That’s up to the family.”
first, an attempt to kill my post-game victory
I was fully hit by the enormity of the
buzz, but it quickly became apparent this was
situation. Cats and laundry had now become
all too serious.
the honeymoon period to this new phase in
It had snowed heavily that day. We bundled
our lives. Our only options at this point were to
up and made the very slippery drive to the
bring her home with us or take her back to her
hospital. We were greeted by a neurologist,
condo. Our immediate thought was bringing
still in her full Seahawks gear complete with
Mom to our house wasn’t an option. There
green hair. “Your mom has had a stroke” she
were stairs upon stairs and no way to get her
said, eyes full of sympathy. She squeezed
into the main living area. With my husband
my hand and took me in to see my mom. At
and I working full time jobs, and all the kids in
the first sight of her, I almost crumbled. She
school, this would leave her alone during the
looked so small in the hospital bed, left side
day, which was about as feasible as leaving an
of her face drooping, confusion as to why
infant alone for a nine-hour stretch.
she could not use her left arm and hand, or
Taking her back to the condo was equally
articulate the words that were in her head.
fraught with peril. Who would take care
She was caught in an unfamiliar universe
of her? How would she get to doctor’s
with no one who could pull her back though to
appointments and shop and cook and clean?
the world she knew.
There was only one answer to each of those
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questions: “Me.” Mom was fortunate enough
commandeered the shopping list and asked
to have a neighbor willing come and check on
her to go pick a few frozen entrees for herself
her every two hours during the workdays, but
while I shopped a few aisles over from where
nights and weekends were on me. I’d do the
she was.
shopping and cook meals that the neighbor
I kept hearing an odd sound. A slapping
could pop in the microwave for lunch. I’d stop
and skidding noise but my exhaustion kept
by in the morning to make her breakfast, get
me from really processing it further until
her dressed and get her settled into an easy
I headed back to the frozen food aisle. As I
chair for the day. After work I’d go back, give
rounded the corner, I was just in time to see
her a shower, feed her supper, get her into
the source of the sound. Mom was holding
pajamas and settled into bed for the night
the freezer door open with one hand, and
before going home to do a rinse and repeat
was batting boxes of frozen meals to the floor
with my own kids. Mom was appreciative but
with the other. There were 10 of them, lying
did not have the cognitive ability to recognize
in the aisle like items at a yard sale, her face
the toll it was taking on me.
beaming with a look of accomplishment.
It all came to a head 8 months post-stroke.
I, on the other hand, was mortified. Store
It was a Saturday and I had finished giving
employees were gathered and gawking, not
her a shower and wrapped up breakfast. I
quite sure of what they were witnessing.
let her know that I was going to head to the
I apologized profusely and picked up the
store to get groceries for the week and she
wayward meals and got out of there as fast as
announced she wanted to go to the store with
one can with someone in mom’s condition. By
me. While this sounded liked a move in the
the time I got her to the car, buckled in and
right direction, the reality of it was quite
walker stowed, the dam broke. I no longer
different. It took 15 minutes just get her from
had to ability to rationalize, sympathize,
the condo to my car using her walker. It was
or empathize. Eight months of stress came
unseasonably warm that day and by the time
spewing forth and didn’t stop for a half
I managed to get her into the car, buckled up,
hour. Ugly crying and hyperventilating, the
walker folded and put in the trunk, I was a
grocery store staff now had a new source of
sweaty and cranky mess. The grocery store
entertainment: the crazy lady crying in her
was less than a mile away, so before I had
car with the frozen food assailant looking on
a chance to cool down we had to do it all in
in shock.
reverse. Fortunately, the grocery store had a
An hour later we had returned to her condo,
motorized scooter available, so we got her one
with me feeling like there was not a single
and decided to split up the shopping tasks. I
ounce of water left in my body between the crying and sweating.
Ugly crying and hyperventilating, the grocery store staff now had a new source of entertainment: the crazy lady crying in her car with the frozen food assailant looking on in shock. 74 | Beneath Your Beautiful
I got the food prepped and managed to squeak out an “I’m sorry” as I left that day. The next morning, Mom was waiting for me in the living room. I was proud she’d managed
to get herself out there but stopped when I
begin my search. I knew enough about Mom’s
saw her face. I could tell she’d been crying
finances to have a ballpark estimate of what
and assumed she was upset by my meltdown.
she could afford. I called the first place and
As I started to apologize, she stopped me. She
had to keep myself from audibly gasping
told me how sorry she was that all of this had
when I heard their beginning pricing of a
fallen on me and that we needed to come up
studio apartment. With sticker shock and
with a different plan. It had finally sunk in
my fingers shaking, I dialed the phone to
that this was not a sustainable situation for
the other independent living community. To
either of us.
my relief, they had pricing that fell into
We decided to try having in-home health
mom’s price range and some 3rd party care
care come in to do the heavy lifting for me. The
options available. We booked a visit for the
4-hour blocks of time we booked a few times
following Saturday.
a week resulted in a half hour for a shower,
Incredibly reluctant, Mom tried backing
and 3.5 hours of visiting with my mom. The
out three times that week, so when Saturday
bills were mounting, and I was still the person
arrived, I loaded the kids into the car to come
who performed the bulk of the daily chores.
with us because they could convince their
Mom was also having trouble at night. She
Grandma to do things she wouldn’t do for
was trying to be more independent, but her
me. Yes, I stacked the deck a little that day.
body was not ready. That is when the falls
When we arrived at the community, Mom
began. The first time, I found her on the floor,
was apprehensive, but I could also see her
wedged between the wall and her bed. Afraid
curiosity was piqued. We entered through
of hurting her and having no idea how long
the main entrance, Mom with her walker, me
she’d been there, I called 911. When the next
and the kids trailing behind like little ducks.
fall came, she hit the floor so hard the neighbor
The Community Sales Leader read the last 8
heard it, and they called 911. By the third time
months on my face and scooped Mom, taking
the paramedics came out, they advised me that
her under her wing to show off the amenities.
she was no longer safe to remain in her home
For the first time in 8 months, I had a feeling
and that we needed to come to a decision on a
of peace and was teetering on the edge of hope.
NEXT “next step.” The problem was, I had no
Even though Mom did not say much, I had
idea what the next step was.
a feeing of being lighter when we left there
Understandably, Mom had always been
that day. I left Mom at her condo to marinate
adamant about never being put in a home.
in the experience overnight, and called the
Too many episodes of The Golden Girls and
next morning to ask if she’d like me to set up
the numerous references to “Shady Acres,”
more tours to other communities. You could
combined with images of the Retirement
have knocked me over with a feather when
Communities from her parent’s era swam in
she said she wanted to go back and secure the
her head. They swam in mine as well. I have
apartment we had looked at.
a very vivid memory of a choir performance
Mom was there for 4 glorious years. She
at a nursing Home when I was 8 years-old and
ingratiated herself to staff and residents alike
I remember being sad and scared and just
and was in her social butterfly element. I
wanting to get out of there as fast as I could.
cannot count the number of times I had to call
My kids were little at the time and attended
the front desk because she wasn’t answering
a daycare right behind two Retirement
her phone only to be told she was playing a
Communities, so that is where I decided to
game or on an outing with her friends. She
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Janet Feldhausen
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dined on prime rib at Christmas and danced the night away (until 9:00) on New Year’s Eve. She went from walker to wheelchair, and battled cancer there. She lived a lot of life in that community, and found a whole new purpose. While she never wanted to be put in a home, home is indeed what she found there. COVID hit and like the rest of the world, life as we knew it turned on its ear. The community did an excellent job of navigating the new normal, but between Mom’s care needs increasing, and our own fears of her getting exposed to COVID, we decided to move her in with us. The kids were grown, my husband was home all day and there was a feeling of this is what good children do for their parents. Year one went well in the new house. Mom could navigate the entire first floor and even get out on to the porch if she wanted to. Year two, we noticed her spending a lot more time in her room, binge watching Little House on the Prairie. Her sight and mobility continued to decline, and she needed care that was harder for us to address and navigate. It was apparent that she needed and deserved better care than we could give. After a year of navigating the Medicaid application, Mom was finally approved, and we moved her into an adult family home. While different from an independent living community, this home was just what Mom needed to have a renewed feeling of independence and vigor. In addition to all the care she needs by people qualified and passionate about providing it, she’s got peers to talk to and adores the staff there. In the end, this journey brought Mom to a place where her physical and emotional needs are met. She has flourished there, as she once did at her independent living community. It also brought me to a deeply rewarding career in senior living as a Community Sales Manager. On a daily basis, I not only get to help others who are standing where I once was, but I get to help seniors find that next step, and share in the rewards that come with it. If you find yourself on this journey in the Spokane area, do not despair. Our area has so many great options with people who are passionate about the senior population. With its independent living, assisted living, skilled nursing, memory care and Hospice resources, Spokane and North Idaho have a network of communities that fill the needs of our aging population professionally and gracefully. Take the time to objectively and honestly look at the situation and decide what supportive services are the priority in your search. Then, take the very important first step towards your next step. That’s where it all begins. ▮
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M O D E L / P E R F O R M E R Laden
instagram.com/smoothvsladen WA R D R O B E S T Y L I S T/ C R E AT I V E D I R E C T O R / P H O T O G R A P H E R Special K
instagram.com/developfrom_thenegatives
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Sky Stitched Designs is committed to fashion inclusivity and accessibility. The brand is for those who like innovative designs that bring anime inspirations to reality. Becoming a Sky Stitched Doll is not just a title, it’s a lifestyle! Professionalism, Uniqueness, Sexy, Sweet, and a “YES” mindset when it comes to fashion accessibility! Crocheting for me is really just a creative outlet where I get to express myself. I want others to be able to look and feel their best in crochet pieces I design. FA S H I O N D E S I G N E R Sky Stitched Designs
instagram.com/skystitcheddesigns
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by Elin Adcock
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My life has been filled with projects. There’s just nothing more satisfying to me as a project completed. I learned to crochet at nine, took up acrylic
and ambitions never resonated within our
paints at eleven, learned felting and how to
marriage. That was a very lonely time in my
make Christmas ornaments out of glittery
life - projects lost their shine and I put my head
paper and straw, learned how to make a
down and gritted my teeth through the chore
marionette, and a hundred other crafts as a
that was our relationship.
Girl Scout. I was the sister who always put the
It wasn’t until after I remarried, having
cereal toys together – you know, the snap-
reconnected with my very best childhood
together plastic things that were an entire
friend, my first “boyfriend” who came back
journey of their own. First, you had to convince
into my life just as my first marriage was
mom to buy the cereal, and then you had to
ending, that I finally learned the power of what
hunt for the toy floating around in the box
WE can do together, rather than what I can do.
(we didn’t wait until we got to it by actually
Those first few years he spent working on that
EATING the cereal), and finally, had to break
chip on my shoulder, gentling me in the way
apart all those tiny pieces without losing them,
one would do a stubborn horse, encouraging
and figure out how they snapped together from
me not only to chase my dreams, but joining
those cryptic instructions that would give
me in the pursuit, helping me to improve my
IKEA a run for their money.
terribly stunted life skills and allowing me the
I learned how to install my own telephone
space to grow into the person I was meant to
at 15, after my parents told me, “No, you can’t
be. All the while, he lent his energy to mine,
have a phone in your room, that costs money
and we spent every day striving towards our
that we don’t have!” Thus, ushering in the era
shared dreams. Two being infinitely greater
of “just watch me” when faced with an obstacle
than one, we prospered.
of someone else’s making. My first marriage
Then I got my first Volkswagen. Rather, I was
was filled with arguments where I was told
gifted my first Volkswagen by my father-in-
“you can’t do that”, “that won’t work”, “that
law, who was just so tickled that his son and
won’t fit there”, “you don’t need to do that”
I had finally gotten together after all those
and a hundred other reasons why I shouldn’t
years apart. He’d long held this vision that one
be taking on the project of the week. It seems,
of his boys would marry one of the Pearson
looking back, the first part of my life was
girls, and it finally happened. So, after casually
filled with people telling me what I HAD to
asking me what my dream car was, he bought
do, instead of encouraging me to do what I
it for me, and towed it from Florida to Texas to
WANTED to do, which led to a pretty big chip
deliver it personally. A red, convertible, 1974
on my shoulder, in addition to a pretty strong
Karmann Ghia became the major catalyst for
sense of self-assuredness, and that I COULD,
change in my life from the “I” to the “We.”
INDEED, DO THAT. I spent my thirties raising my kids, doing
I drove that derelict car around with a smile, despite its breaking down every so often,
the work thing, trying to build a life for us
needing a replacement coil, a fuel pump, some
that matched the vision I had in my head of
gas, the list of mishaps and failures went
what I wanted our lives to look like. My ideas
on and on and on. Each rescue came at the
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hands of one of the members of our growing
our lives, each cruise or campout filled with
VW community, complete strangers coming
stories we will always remember. If we broke
together to help us as many times as we came
it, we’d fix it, when we fixed it, we could drive
to rescue them. We traded parts, time and
it, and when we drove it, we felt this immense
stories as we all labored together, building our
satisfaction of knowing that we had done
cars and furthering our dreams collectively.
it together.
VW Work Days became a regular occurrence,
It is that very life lesson that has become
where members would come together to work
a lifeline to me, at a time when I most need
on whatever project was needed – a brake
support and assistance – this time not with a
job, a tune-up, some upholstery work – all
car, but during my grief from losing my dear
of us learning together how to care for and
husband. It is that very same community who
restore our precious relics. Family events were
have embraced our family, this time not to fix,
celebrated, tragedies were grieved, and we all
but certainly to support and love us through a
did it together, in community. Our Work Days
time that we just can’t get through alone. They
were almost like a good, old fashioned barn-
know from our experience with these old cars
raising – every person in attendance had a
that sometimes there is no fixing, sometimes
purpose, whether it was to help, or to learn, to
there is only reflection, and memories.
be comedic relief or wisdom. There were those
Sometimes, the only thing to be done with
who were there to cook, and some who would
that dented hubcap is to paint it and turn it
“hold my coffee” (yes, that was a thing) when
into something it was never meant to be. That
I needed to put my tiny girl hands into a space
exploded piston can be welded into a piece of
that the guys could not. So many strong hands
art that lets you know what it was, but can never
to lift an engine, stretch upholstery, or break a
be again. And it is like that with this grief. There
bolt loose, so many smaller, softer hands to sand
is no fixing, there can be only transmutation.
bodywork, or put things together but not break
There can be only time, and shared memories.
them. It was during those years that I learned
There is no way on earth that I can survive
joy can’t be bought, but it can be built with
the pain of his loss, but certainly we can make
many hands.
it through this, together. It will be only because
It was also during that time I learned to
of those many hands that I will come out on the
embrace problems as opportunities. Each
other side of this grief journey. Perhaps with
leaking brake line was a chance to learn
many dents, squeaks, rusty parts and parts
more about how these cars were built, each
that give out, but still drivable, and hopefully,
late-night rescue mission in the cold and the
one day filled with the simple satisfaction of a
rain, a chance to grow closer to the people in
project completed. ▮
Ordinarily a very self-assured person, Elin Adcock has spent the better part of her life focused on family, career and her vintage VW obsession – pretty much in that order. In recent years, she has added some backyard chickens, a flock of cockatiels and garden beds to her list of hobbies. With retirement age looming, this newly-widowed woman is on a journey of self-discovery, one that is causing her to re-evaluate her life as it was, and how it will be in the coming years. Her devoted sons, sisters, nieces and nephews are now front and center in her life, lifting her spirits and acting as her true north. It is their support, as well as her editorial efforts for this magazine and advocacy for the ALS and FTD communities that has allowed her to move forward with purpose through this difficult time. You can find more of her original works at The Write Stuff, a blog page hosted by several ALS patients and caregivers. alsthewritestuff.com/blog
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M O D E L Mariah Scroggins
instagram.com/whatta_peach
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brenda cook Brenda Cook is an award-winning and Internationally published photographer in the Inland Northwest.
An Idaho native, her love of photography started at the young age of 10 when she received her first Kodak 110 film camera.
Since that time, she has enjoyed displaying her art in galleries, selling prints, and serving the community as a portrait photographer. She has been voted “Best Photographer of North Idaho” three years running (2021-2023). She enjoys the creative aspects of her conceptual art and fantasy photography the most, and has a passion for capturing and revealing the beauty in nature and in all people. She visualizes her subjects as works of art. “Art is my life and my life is art.” Brenda’s published works can be seen in a variety of magazine features ranging from fantasy and pinup to travel and nature. She specializes in senior, wedding, couples, boudoir, fantasy and family photography, as well as travel and nature photography. P H O T O G R A P H E R Brenda Cook
instagram.com/bcookphoto
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M O D E L Amy Sherman
instagram.com/mamamy2.0
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M O D E L Amy Sherman
instagram.com/mamamy2.0
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M O D E L Cierra Swan
instagram.com/c.joella.95
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M O D E L Elle Sinclair
instagram.com/elle.sclair
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BEYOND
pink
by Elin Adcock
501c3 organization, whose mission is to improve lives in the community by providing education about, funding for, and access to, advanced breast screening technologies specifically, thermography. One reason Charlie is so passionate about women’s health is because she herself has suffered from the chronic autoimmune disease, Lupus, for many years. Although she doesn’t let the disease define her, it has certainly shaped the way she has lived her life and has fueled her desire to improve her community. Fifteen years in the past, the original diagnosis came after a time of great loss in her life. Three months before, Charlie lost her father, and almost simultaneously her mother was diagnosed with terminal
Charlie Brewer is a force of nature. Some of the first things you notice are her bright skin, sparkling eyes, and a personality to match. The first two things she attributes to her healthy lifestyle, and the last to her strong faith.
lung cancer, both happening a few years after tragically losing her youngest sister. Her doctors speculated that the stress from all those losses may have been what triggered the disease process in her body. The diagnosis led Charlie on a journey towards personal health and wellness. Researching all she could about nutrition and exercise, Charlie began reading labels, studying vitamins and nutrients, and making
Her professional background of more than 30
sure what she was putting in her body
years was anchored in the financial industry,
was natural and good for her. An admitted
but Charlie’s primary focus now is the work
supplement junkie, she is always looking
she does with Beyond Pink, a Spokane-based
for the cleanest nutrients to use in her daily
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beyondpink.net
health regimen. Beyond Pink’s mission fits
the infrared heat radiating from the surface
perfectly with her passionate pursuit of health
of the body. Clusters of abnormal or diseased
and wellness for herself, because, as Charlie
cells that can develop into cancer often have
likes to say, “Supporting others is a great way
an increased blood supply that leads to an
to process your own pain and move forward.”
elevation in the temperature of the skin over
Charlie and her good friend, Karla Watkins,
the area. This potential indicator of abnormal
founded Beyond Pink in 2010, to make the
breast physiology can aid in the detection of
technology of thermography and its powerful
changes in the breast tissue at the earliest
ability to aid in the early detection of breast
stage, which could be years before a mass is
disease more accessible to the women in their
formed. Studies worldwide have highlighted
community. This organization serves an
thermography’s role in early detection and
important need, as thermography is generally
monitoring of abnormal breast physiology.
not covered by insurance, but in many cases
Until health insurance companies begin
the early detection it provides is lifesaving.
to cover thermography, Beyond Pink will
Beyond Pink has helped to fund thousands of
continue to bridge the gap and empower
thermographs through grants and financial
women to make informed choices for their
assistance, with 1.8 million dollars raised to
breast health, regardless of financial standing.
date. Donated funds stay local and 100% of net
As for her, Charlie will continue to serve her
proceeds are used to provide grants to women
community, asserting that if you are well, it’s
in Spokane and surrounding communities.
because you are supposed to help those who
For years, mammograms have been the go-
aren’t. Asked about her favorite quotes, she
to for breast cancer screening. The downside
immediately jumped to the wisdom of the
to a mammogram is, it takes time for a tumor
great Nelson Mandela, who once said: “It is
to grow large enough to be detected. On the
in your hands to create a better world for all
other hand, Thermography uses a digital
who live in it.” Charlie believes it, and lives it,
infrared thermal camera to detect and record
every day. ▮
Charlie Brewer spent her childhood on a family farm in Valleyford, WA, and is the middle child in a blended family of 12. As a lifelong resident of Spokane, she has a passion for the community, having served on multiple boards, and volunteered for many community outreach programs. She was also a member of “Healing Spokane” where she worked directly with medical practitioners who have a common goal to bridge the gap between conventional and complementary medicine, to provide patients the best care possible. Charlie lives in Spokane with her husband and loves spending time with her 2 kids and 5 wonderful grandboys.
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On my way The girl with no name, she spurns social media but some photographers call her Cris. Born on the beautiful Italian island of Sardinia, between clear waters and hills. She travels everywhere: to Colombia, to Rome, even to Africa. She lives among different peoples; she learns to adapt. She speaks very little, but she observes a lot. She lives a rebellious adolescence. In the summer of 2011 Cris passes the exam and enrols at the University. She becomes a nurse, and gives birth to a boy. People tell her she can’t work with a baby, she can’t be a model, she can’t fulfill her dreams. But this Mum is rebellious, she has seen so much, and she is hiding an inner strength that nobody can see. Before long, Cris begins working as a nurse. When the pandemic begins, she cannot put into words how much suff ering her eyes have seen. But she can tell the world through photography. She can convey her energy with poses and looks. She can be herself, she can tell her story through the lens of a camera. She can be herself: She can be Cris. by Ted O’Neill, reporter, The Lincolnshire Echo. M O D E L Cristiana Tosi
facebook.com/cristiana.tosi.5
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STUDIO H creative is an award-winning design firm. After 33 years in business, we’ve done it all. Annual reports, event collateral, magazines, logos, packaging, social media graphics, photography, brochures, flyers, posters, menus, web and editorial design – including Beneath Your Beautiful Magazine!
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studioh-creative.com
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C R E AT I V E D I R E C T O R Lidiya Chagaeva Modelstars
instagram.com/modelstars_ekb
MODELSTARS is a modeling agency in Yekaterinburg, Russia whose mission is to show the beauty of women age 40+ P H O T O G R A P H E R Tatyana Loshagina
instagram.com/loshagina_photography M A K E U P A R T I S T Vasiliy Skobelin
instagram.com/skobelin_mu
M O D E L Mariya Veber
instagram.com/maria.veber26
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D E S I G N E R Anatoliy Pushkarev
instagram.com/tolyapushkarev.
M O D E L Yuliya Gorbovets @Modelstars - Ekb Age
instagram.com/yuliagorbovets
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zie Miller
M O D E L Maken
ckythem instagram.com/ma
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onster
M O D E L Nic
k Simons
P H O T O G R A P H E R Paul Romanov
instagram.com/rosepaintedblk
Paul Romanov is a photographer at Rose Painted Black Photography in Spokane, WA. He was born in Russia, but raised in Southern California by adoptive parents. He picked up photography in 2016 when he got my first DSLR camera as a Christmas present and has been doing it ever since. He graduated with his associates degree in fine arts in 2019 and has been focusing on growing his business and audience. He’s photographed everything from portraits to weddings, to a brand deal with Aqua Haus Co. based in Texas. The most fun part to Paul is that, because art is subjective, he can have boundaries outside the box and a sense of creativity that he can’t have in other fields. Picking up his Canon Rebel T6 brings an enjoyment that he can’t find anywhere else.
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Gabriel Toapanta
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Gabriel Toapanta, Ecuadorian artist, is 29 years old. He loves photography: the concepts and emotions that you can capture through an image. Where others see simplicity he sees beauty. Through photography, he has met makeup artists and designers who inspire his photographic work. Each photo tells a story, using different styles of composition, colors, editing and artistic makeup to provide a unique touch. Gabriel hopes people like his work and that he can transmit his emotions into their hearts
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M O D E L Gabriel Toapanta
instagram.com/gabriel.toapanta.58 P H O T O G R A P H E R Steven Paucar
instagram.com/steeven_paucar
P H O T O G R A P H E R Esteban Pacheco
instagram.com/pacherophoto
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www.hara.photography
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VIEW free online at issuu.
byb.li/ViewOnline
ORDER print copy at blurb.
byb.li/PrintOnDemand
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mission-driven
Committed to spreading positivity and hope and improving lives through raw and compassionate storytelling. beneathyourbeautiful.org
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beneathyourbeautiful.org